


In the Midst of Despair

by HeroicSeoul



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroicSeoul/pseuds/HeroicSeoul
Summary: He wanted to escape a life of a farm boy and become an adventurer.She wanted to escape a life of despair.What happens when two unlikely individuals cross paths? Can either of them help the other escape their own troubles?





	1. - Prologue -

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot be the only one that fell for Erik the Slayer when first encountering him in Rorikstead. Something about his pleasant voice, his desires to become an adventurer. Let's be real here, he is my favorite companion to have in the game, there's no doubt about it. For that, I wanted to create a slightly non-canon tale that promotes Erik from being a supportive role to more of a role in the forefront. I wanted to tell more of him, through my own eyes and gameplay, as much as possible. I hope that you all enjoy the fruits of my labor.

**\- PROLOGUE-**

Her vision was blurred as she tried to open her eyes, hearing voices all around her but not being able to pinpoint exactly where they were coming from. Her surroundings were unable to come into focus as she felt her eyes opening and closing. She knew not where she was, nor did she have any idea what was happening around her as she slipped in and out of consciousness. 

The voices, however, did not cease. 

"Bring her over here..." there was a pause before the voice continued. "...carefully now, place her gently on the bed. Erik, fetch the young lady some water..."

Her eyes barely could open, and she tried to fight the urge to close them again, to slip into oblivion and be whisked away to an endless slumber. She tried, her efforts in vain, to come to. Instead, darkness surrounded her and the voices continued to fade in and out of her senses once more. 

"She's badly wounded," echoed around her, and she struggled to cling to the words, to the voices surrounding her. "...she might not make it through the night. If she does, it'll be a miracle, at best." 

"No one deserves to die like that..."

"I'll send word for one of the priests. It's only right that we give her a proper burial."

That was all she heard as she faded into oblivion. 


	2. Prelude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are introduced to the kind of life there is for a young farmer boy in Rorikstead.

**\- Prelude -**

**Erik**

**Middas, 2nd of Rain's Hand**

The life of a young lad reared in the quaint settlement of Rorikstead had its own routine. For Erik, day in and day out he toiled the land from dawn to dusk. Today was no different, of course. In fact, this was the season where the rain was plentiful and the fruits of his labor would yield pleasant results. Though there were a few occupants in the area that farmed, Erik made quite the name for himself with his crops. It was a name he wore proudly, yet felt an inclination of disdain. The routine grew tiring for him. How the people around him settled for such a life was a mystery; for Erik could never see himself doing this _well_ into his adulthood. For now, he remained content enough or tries to, at least, to keep his focus on the crops. 

Having grown accustom to getting up before most occupants in the FrostFruit Inn, if there were any, and the townsfolk, he no longer needed his father's boot to jar him awake. 

Erik sat up in bed, his shoulder length blonde hair brushing against his shoulders and the single braid he'd grown accustomed to wearing ever since he let young Sissel braid it from time to time, slapped him against the forehead. He groaned slightly, having tossed and turned the night before, not getting as much sleep as he'd hoped for the long day ahead. Nonetheless, he knew that if he lingered in bed much longer, his doting father would pay him a visit that he did not want, nor need. 

He chuckled at the thought as he pulled himself up, his sun-kissed skin flexing as it pushed his weight upward so that he was standing, bare-chested and bare-bottomed, in the privacy of his own room. He yawned before heading over to the wash bucket in the corner. Splashing the cool water over his face with one hand and grabbing his wash cloth with another, he bathed as best as he could, as quickly as he could, in the effort to get dressed, grab a morsel of food to eat, and be out of the inn in which he called his home before his father got on him about falling behind. 

Dressing simply, he didn't mind how the shirt draped around his muscular frame, having taken the shirt from his father when he deemed it _stylish enough_ to wear for his own enjoyment. Erik opened the wooden door, exposing the main hall in the inn that he'd spent his entire life in. 

The hall was still large considering Erik was now practically an adult. In the center was the large fireplace where many a meal was prepared to serve both Erik and his father, as well as the patrons that frequented the inn if they preferred a meal here rather than their own homes. Along the walls sat long tables where a host of people would gather to swap war stories, political debates, or talk of crops and the weather. The place was neat and nothing seemed out of place, thanks to his father that made sure his prized inn remained in top shape. If Erik did not farm as much as he did, he would be an innkeeper like his father. He shuddered at the thought. If he had to choose, though neither of the two were the preferred choice, he'd much rather deal with crops than drunken fools. 

"My my my," a voice broke through the silence and Erik's thoughts, "I was beginning to think I would have to come and wake you like I used to. I'm glad I won't have to crease my boots." Mralki, Erik's sole surviving parent, kicked his foot up at his words, a large grin on his face, the corners of his eyes creasing as he spoke. The famous eye-smile that some travelers talked about his father possessing. 

"No, you didn't." Erik responded, plainly. He did not miss those days one bit. Having to tend to the field all day while limping or sporting a painful blow from his father's large boot size only made him cringe at the thought. For the past two seasons he's been doing a good job on his own. Could it be his persistence to get the day over with or the fear of the boot? 

Erik shuddered. 

"I'm just messing with you, boy!" His father blurted, his loud voice shaking some of the wooden bowls on the tables around the room as his large arm wrapped around Erik's neck, pulling him into a headlock as he glided his fist through Erik's hair. 

"Dad! Okay, I get it, stop it!' Erik flailed his arms, trying to slide out of his father's death-like grip, but the old army soldier was stronger than his son when he wanted to be. Erik thrashed around, only to fall directly on his buttocks when his father suddenly released him. He glared up at his father as the man towered over him, laughing. When Mralki reached for Erik's hand, he hesitated, unsure if his father would try to pull another fast one on him. He was thankful that no one was around to see this. It was embarrassing, to say the least. 

"Go on, take it son. I won't hold you up much longer." His father's hand remained outstretched and Erik warily reached for it, not up for anymore antics that the older man would try. When he came to his feet, he released his father's hand and dusted himself off. "I'm glad to see that there is no talk of adventuring today, son." Mralki probed, his eyebrows raised. "Or of you sneaking around downstairs last night."

Erik's head snapped up, his eyes fixated on his father, trying to read his expression. Was he angry? Would he hide what Erik was trying to sneak around in like he'd done once before? Erik cleared his throat loudly and made way towards the plate of food sitting atop the bar, no doubt something his father whipped up for him. Erik grabbed to of the sweetrolls from the plate, placing one in his pocket, the other he broke in half and placed the slab of thinly sliced venison and the poached egg between the roll and took a bite. As he did this, he made his way towards the door, trying to avoid opening a can of worms or having his father unleash a wrath mightier than a dragon's on him. He was surprised that being _found out_ , alone, wasn't enough to cause the man to give him the boot this morning. _Thank the Nine_ , he thought to himself as he went to open the door to Rorikstead. 

"I guess this will be a conversation that he have on tonight, then." Mralki retorted as he chuckled at his son's obvious tell-tale of guilt and being caught. The boy could be such a milk-drinker at times, Erik knew this. His father could always catch him in a lie, so he tried not to engage in the act of storytelling. The man could see right through people. He knew when someone wasn't being truthful, when they were being boastful, and when they were only trying to deceive. Erik learned, a long time ago, to bite his tongue, avoid conversation, and carry on like nothing happened if he could not conjure a lie quick enough. Erik left out of the inn knowing that this would not be the last time his father mentioned his nightly activity in the cellar of Frostfruit. 

\---

The sun was high in the sky now, and Erik had lost track of time with the amount of work he was doing. So much so that he stripped from the work shirt he'd had on before. Granted, the heat waves would not come until well into Sun's Height, but when one is as active as he was in the fields, even the slightest change in temperature would be enough to make a young man disrobe, his shirt, at least. 

Erik rolled the shirt in his hands and used it to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He leaned against the hoe and looked out at the massive field he was working on. There was still so much to do before nightfall, and he did not want to get behind. He, at least, wanted to get majority of the work done before the rainfall he predicted would come later fell over the settlement. He hated working in the rain. Sure, the coolness of the water would be pleasant, but the chance at getting sick would mean he could not make a living. A man without coin, why, that was no man at all. 

"Here Erik, my pa said you could use a drink of water," a small, weary voice filled his senses and Erik turned to look a little Sissel. She held a mug of water in her hands and stared at him with soft eyes. He smiled at the sight of her and knelt down to her height and level, taking the mug in his hands carefully. 

"Thank you, Sissel. I greatly appreciate it." He let the hoe fall to the ground and fumbled around his pocket for a septim to give to her. "Go, before your pa comes and yells, but take this to my pa and tell him Erik sent you to get something sweet. You deserve it." At the sight of the septim, the tiny girl smiled widely, taking it in her own hands and examining it. 

"Thank you so much, Erik! Perhaps your pa has those candies I like. The last time I tried to get some, he said that the supplier from Whiterun had not been this way. I saw him the other day, so maybe there will be some?" It was more of a question, rather than a statement. Erik nodded his head in response to it. 

"He made sure to get an extra bag just for you," he spoke calmly and carefully, not wanting to draw too much attention to their exchange, especially from her father. That man was cruel, bitter, and hateful, even to his own girls. When he was done speaking, she nodded, looked around, then placed the septim in her skirt pocket before walking off, going directly to the inn across the field to collect her reward. Erik smiled in her direction, then gulped down the cool liquid from the mug, some of its contents falling outside of his mouth and down his chin, dripping on his chest. He walked the empty mug to a fence post and placed it delicately on it before heading back to the hoe on the ground. Retrieving it, he stood upright and wiped his forehead once more. 

He predicted that he only had two more hours, at best, in the heat before the rain clouds in the distance made their way to Rorikstead, so he knew he had to hurry. There was still much of the field that needed to be done. As he began working, toiling the land and prepping the soil for new seeds to be planted, he heard footsteps in his direction. He paused in his tracks, clutching the handle of the hoe. The only other individuals that would patrol the settlement were the few guards courtesy of Rorik, the one the township was named after. There were Sissel and her twin sister Britte, the farm hands, but everyone else ended to stay indoors. 

As a hand came down on his shoulder, Erik jerked and nearly swung the hoe around to attack the unknown foe, but his father grabbed it mid-air and laughed. 

"You almost looked like you were trained in the art of dual-wielded weaponry." He took the hoe from Erik and held it against his frame. "I just wanted to come out here and check up on you. You haven't taken a break since you came out here. Have you stopped and sat in the shade? Where is Lemkil, Ennis, or Reldith?" His father looked around the field, only seeing his son toiling in the sun. By the Nine, Erik worked harder than most people out here. An outsider would have thought that he loved what he did. Though he resented what he did with a passion, he put his all into his work and Mralki worried as any loving father would. 

Taking the hoe back from his father, Erik shrugged his shoulders slightly before returning the answer to his inquisitive father. "Ennis worked himself to death and ended up fainting. I told him not to push himself so hard. He's not as young as he used to be." Erik continued to work the land. "Lemkil is somewhere griping and complaining," he said this lowly, "about his daughters rather than working. And Reldith," he began about the Altmer, who has been an owner of one of these farms longer than Erik could remember, "went down to the creek to fetch some water for myself and the animals."

"That woman," his father started, "could have sent you in her place to fetch the water. How far is that creek from where we stand? Too far for her to go. This land is in turmoil. Bandits roam free, Forsworn, and all this talk of damned dragons; it makes you wonder why anyone would be foolish to think about leaving their safe settlement to become an adventurer..." Mralki's voice trailed off and Erik could feel his gaze burning through his back. He almost turned around to tell his father to leave the conversation alone, but a voice in the distance broke the tension Erik felt welling up inside of him. 

Mralki's head snapped up, as did Erik's and they turned to see Reldith waving her hands frantically in the air to get anyone's attention. 

"Erik, guards, anyone!" She screamed, "come quickly! There's been an incident!"

Without a second thought, and with adrenaline pumping through him, Erik took off in her direction, his father hot on his trail. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't hold off with my first official chapter. I know that it's a lot of reading, next to nothing, but I am excited about how it turned out. I hope that you all are, too. So, please, tell me what you think. Comments and criticism is definitely appreciated. Take care, and see you all in the next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to give you a little prologue, if you will, of the tale. Please bear with me as we go through this journey together. Updates will come as frequently as I am able. Stay on the lookout for the first official chapter to be posted soon.   
> Thank you, in advance, for your support.  
> Your comments and thoughts would be greatly appreciated!


End file.
